Virtue of Pleasure
by Heiwako
Summary: Brynjolf's latest protege is a shy, sweet girl, seemingly innocent in many ways. Her sweetness and innocence offends Mercer. He intends to put an end to that nonsense personally. Rated M for sexual situations and language.


Inspired by SKM - Mercer is preparing to steal the Eyes of the Falmer. He's packed up all the best of the Thieves' Guild's loot and has plundered every treasure save one.

Brynjolf's latest protege is a shy, sweet girl, seemingly innocent in many ways. Her sweetness and innocence offends Mercer. He intends to put an end to that nonsense personally.

Dubcon and violence just fine, but the girl has to enjoy it, however reluctantly.

Nessa belongs to Zute and used with permission. When I read this prompt, I knew she was perfect for the story. This is a bit AU, but if you liked Nessa, you can find her story here on - We Know.

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"Another toast to the girl of the hour, Nessa!"

A huzzah echoed through the Ragged Flagon as the Thieves' Guild collectively raised their cups before draining them of mead and ale. The energy in the room was positive as the various members buzzed with excitement.

Nessa had successfully returned from completing the infamous Goldenglow Estate job, a mission even Vex had failed. There might have been some soot on her face and a few golden locks burnt in the process, but she had destroyed the requested hives and cleaned out Aringoth's safe without being caught.

She might have run like a scared rabbit when she saw motion outside the corner of her eye once she left the property, but that part didn't need to be retold when she reported to Brynjolf.

Her mentor had praised her so highly at her success that Nessa had blushed until her skin had turned a pretty pink to the very roots of her scalp. He then insisted on buying a drink for her which led to the thieves in the Cistern following to hear the heist in full detail.

At first, the young blonde Nord had quietly and shyly gave a brief description of how she had skulked below the estate in the abandoned sewers until she got into the house, crawled along the halls of the building to avoid the guards, grabbed the key from Aringoth before finding the safe and escaping through a trapdoor that lead back to the sewers. Toasting the three beehives had been almost an afterthought before making a run for it.

But as the drinks flowed and more and more people asked for the story, she couldn't help embellishing it a little more each time. Her journey through the sewer became a proud stride, her crawling in the manor turned into a predator's stalk, her dodging of guards became a harrowing hand-to-hand combat with three large men bearing down on her, and her snagging the key from a napping Aringoth became her browbeating him into verbal submission before he gladly handed her the key.

Each retelling was greeted with a loud round of applause, a new toast, and a deep drink before a new round would start. It felt good for someone to accomplish such a big job. Maven Black-Briar had been breathing down the Guild's neck to get the affair settled and after Vex, their best lockpicker, had failed, spirits had been low.

It didn't help that Delvin Mallory had been talking about the Guild being cursed and so many members being incarcerated for being caught for the simplest jobs. Brynjolf had been bragging about his newest protégé for weeks and it was a delight to find that he was right. Maybe she was the Guild's luck.

And who wouldn't love someone like Nessa? She was young, sweet, and a classic beauty. Her skin was unmarred, her hair golden like ripe wheat, and eyes like the clear summer sky. She didn't look like a thief with her big eyes and heart shaped face, which obviously made her perfect for the profession. It was much easier to rob people if you looked agreeable than a rough brute.

It didn't hurt that she was a gentle soul. A thief, but gentle nonetheless. She seemed honestly interested in getting to know the others in the Guild and was always willing to give a hand if one was needed. She had an easy laugh and an easier smile. Delvin liked her, but he liked all young, pretty things. Vekel the Man thought she was a good addition to the group, and even Dirge didn't harass her as much as he did with some of the other newcomers.

Now everyone was gathered in the Flagon and drinking happily. It was quite crowded for the normally deserted bar, but word had passed quickly after Bryn had bought Nessa her first drink. Now it was an impromptu party with Nessa as the guest of honor.

Vex looked a bit…well, vexed as she leaned against one of the piles of barrels. After all, the new girl had showed her up, but the older Imperial woman was taking the teasing gracefully, even if she did have to cuff Cynric or Vipir time to time for being too cheeky.

The only other person who looked like they were not having fun was the Guildmaster. Mercer had come into the Flagon for a few moments, his grey eyes burning into Nessa for long moments, before returning to his desk in the Cistern. She had noticed the odd letter from the mysterious competitor with the unknown sigil crumpled in the Breton's hand. She almost asked Brynjolf if he knew anything about it, but Vipir distracted her with a new drink and then it was a new round of telling her harrowing adventure all over again.

It was late into the night when the last of the thieves stumbled off to bed. Nessa was alone cleaning up bottles and spilled cups. Vekel had joined in the drinking and had been dragged off by Tonila hours ago for some couple time, leaving Delvin in charge of the bar. The young Nord wondered how off poor Vekel's books would be in the morning from the blatant skimming that no doubt occurred after he left, but she had faith he would make it up by charging a higher rate for drinks for the next couple of weeks.

In the meantime, she figured she'd help clean up to help take some of the sting of discovering his depleted stores. Brynjolf had offered to help, but after he fell down for the second time when he bent over to pick up some bottles, Nessa had laughingly told him to get some sleep.

Gods, she had been tempted to throw his arms over her shoulders and escort him to his small bed in the Cistern. The thought of the redheaded Nord's body pressed against hers as she helped him under the covers sent a shiver down Nessa's spine. She had harbored an unabashed crush on her mentor since the first time he had opened his mouth to propose she help him in the marketplace.

But, no, Nessa was much too shy to be so bold. There wasn't enough alcohol in all of Nirn to make the fantasy of seducing Brynjolf come true. Nessa has never even been with a man much less lured one unsuspectingly into her bed. She was so inexperienced it was pathetic. Sure, she had read a few tawdry romance novels, but beyond that she hadn't ever been kissed.

Still, the thought of Brynjolf showing his appreciation to his ward left her flushed and giggly as she stacked the empty ale bottles in a pyramid. She thought of how his lips would feel against hers as he murmured 'lass' in her ear and it made her sigh with content. Maybe that's why she didn't hear Mercer as he entered the Flagon.

"Losing sight of your environment is a good way to get killed, girl," the Breton growled darkly, directly behind her. Nessa jumped with a squeak, knocking the bottles over. Some shattered as they landed on the ground, while others rolled away, lost underneath the tables. "Making unnecessary noise is another great way to get caught," he sneered. His crossed arms showed how much he thought of her clumsiness. "However you managed to get out of Goldenglow without botching the job is beyond me."

"Well, you see," Nessa stammered. Her heart was beating too fast and breathing was suddenly impossible. Mercer Frey had always intimidated her since her first meeting with the Guildmaster. She did everything she could to avoid his notice. His constant scowls and glares made her anxious and reminded her too much of her childhood and the hateful orphanage mistress and her beatings. "I…strode into the sewers under the estate."

"Spare me your lies," Mercer snapped. "I remember the first version just as much as the later enhanced ones and I'm not enough of a fool to think the edited versions are the truth."

"I'm sorry," Nessa mumbled, ducking her head.

"What was that?"

"I'm sorry!" Nessa said louder. She flinched at the echoes she created with her response.

"Bah, you should be. Getting the others excited about your triumph when you should be learning how to hone your skills better. You can't get by on pure luck, child," Mercer lectured. Nessa could feel the blood flooding into her face as she blushed a deep red. The way he said child made her feel like she was eight years old. "You should have been able to finish the job without even going upstairs. If you had trained with Vex, then you could have picked the safe on your own."

Nessa could feel tears gathering in her eyes at the Guildmaster's words. Part of her wanted to remind me that Vex had failed that particular job, but she couldn't find the words. Mercer was still berating her, but she couldn't focus on what he was saying. All she knew was that he was close to her, too close. All she could see was the older man's face as he loomed over her.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he barked.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I don't understand," Nessa stuttered. The tears were freely running down her cheeks now. It seemed so unfair. She had had the most wonderful night. Everyone had praised her, bought her drinks, listened to her story, and laughed with her. How was it ending like this?

"When you address me, you'll use my title," Mercer snarled. His right hand was half-raised and it scared Nessa deeply. "I will not tolerate a slip of a girl disrespecting me or my position."

"I'm sorry, Guildmaster!" she cried.

"By Nocturnal, I don't know why I allowed Brynjolf to bring children into the Guild," Mercer complained.

Nessa clenched her hands in angry. How dare he? "I'm not a child," she protested.

"Oh really?" Mercer smirked. "I doubt it."

"I am an adult," Nessa shouted, "and I can prove it!"

"Is that so?" Mercer asked, his voice dangerously low. Nessa's anger melted into fear. He was too close to her now. "Why don't we see about that?"

She turned her face away, squeezing her eyes shut, expecting a slap, expecting yet another scornful rejection of her abilities as a thief, a human being-and the worst-as an adult woman. But instead, he roughly gripped her chin and yanked her head back to center. She opened her eyes just in time to see his fleeting expression, one of greed, or lust, or both.

His lips crashed into hers and whatever expression he wore, she couldn't see. The hand gripping her chin pulled down, urging her mouth to open under his and-why?-it did. Her hands came up, pressing against his chest, pushing or grasping, they were of two minds.

There was no retreating from it now that she'd committed. His tongue pillaging her mouth, his tongue mating with hers, rubbing, and aggressively ransacking everything-every breath, every unsuccessfully suppressed sigh or moan, and certainly the last scrap of self-respect she'd managed to hang onto.

When Mercer finally broke the kiss, Nessa was left flushed and breathless. And confused. Very confused. "Why?" she asked.

"Because I can," Mercer smirked. His fingers ran along her chin, pushing back a strand of hair that had come loose from her braids. "Because I wanted to. The only two reasons a real thief ever needs for his actions." His hand shot out as fast as a snake's bite. Slender fingers pinched her nipple cruelly through her armor.

"Ah!" Nessa screamed from shock more than pain. It did hurt, but as the pain ran down her body, it melted into a warm, pleasant sensation pooling in her hips. "Why?!"

"You forgot my title again," Mercer growled sadistically. His grey eyes flashed with amusement as he twisted harder.

"Guildmaster, please, I'm sorry," Nessa whimpered. Part of her realized that she was taller than the older man, but that didn't seem to matter in the slightest. He was in control here.

"Better," he admitted, "even if you still sound like a child trying to placate a scolding parent. I thought you were going to show me how much of a woman you are?"

His taunts drove her mad as much as they made her cringe. Nessa gritted her teeth. "And how would I do that?" she asked. Almost too late she remembered, "Guildmaster Frey."

"You're a fast learner, I like that," Mercer chuckled. His compliment sent a shiver of pleasure up Nessa's spine. Mercer had never said anything positive to her before. He ran his fingers along her jaw, caressing her as he pushed strands of hair that had fallen loose of her braid. "Unbuckle your top." When Nessa opened her mouth, he shushed her by placing one finger over her lips. "No questions. Just obey."

The young Nord's fingers felt as fat and useless as sausages as she fumbled with her buckles. It felt like there were ten million of the damn things as she awkwardly loosened each one. Finally, after what seemed a millennium, the Thieves' Guild armor fell open to reveal her full breasts.

"Very nice," Mercer commented as he touched her left nipple. The darker skin hardened immediately as he brushed against it. "At least your body is mature."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Nessa pouted. A glance from Mercer quickly made her add, "Guildmaster."

"Please don't act like you're not aware of the cute little girl act," Mercer snorted. His voice shifted into a high pitched falsetto. "'Oh, Brynjolf, please let me help you with that. I don't mind at all.'" His normal sneer returned. "It's enough to make me sick."

It was impossible for Nessa to meet Mercer's gaze. He was inches from her and his grey eyes bore into her relentlessly, but any time she tried to return it she found her eyes sliding away. "It's not an act, sir," she mumbled.

She lost her breath when he cupped each breast in one hand as he stepped close enough to press his leg between hers. Her nipples were rock hard between the cool Ratway air and Mercer's fingers rubbing them. "I suppose it's not," he conceded, "but it should be. You should be wielding that sweet, innocent air about you as a weapon against your enemies."

"I only have friends, Master Frey," Nessa gasped. Mercer's leg was grinding against her sex, making it hard to think.

"Thieves don't have friends," Mercer countered, "and anyone one fool enough to believe otherwise deserves whatever they get." He snarled. "Brynjolf and his ridiculous ideas about the 'noble thief' have half ruined this Guild." His hot breath warmed Nessa's cool skin as he ran his lips over her neck until he reached her shoulder. "We lie, we cheat, we steal." His lips gave a quick kiss before his teeth bit the skin lightly. "We take."

Nessa could only moan as the Breton rubbed against her. His hands were everywhere – her breasts, her hips, her hair, even inside her pants. She gasped as his deft fingers slid into her folds revealing exactly how wet she was from his touch. Her eyes widened in awe when Mercer withdrew his fingers and licked the slickness slowly away.

"Why do you steal, Nessa?" Mercer asked. His hands were in her hair now, petting and pulling. Her braids had fallen completely apart leaving her golden locks free.

This was the first time the Guildmaster had ever addressed her by name. It would have been a huge shock if Nessa wasn't already in mental breakdown from him molesting her.

"To survive, Guildmaster," she stammered. "I was hungry."

Nessa could still remember the first time she had stolen. It had been from Marise Aravel's meat stall. She had taken a small slice of ham while the Dunmer dealt with a customer. Nessa hadn't eaten in three days and she could no longer stand the persistent gnawing in her stomach.

She had been eleven.

"No wonder you have such lofty ideals," Mercer snorted. "Take from the rich and give to the poor, right? Save all the little orphans?"

That struck too close to home. Nessa _had_ grown up in Honorhall Orphanage. Grelod the Kind had thought herself the soul of generosity when she gave the children a loaf of bread on New Life Day. To share. One loaf of bread to feed five children.

"I had to," Nessa said defensively. "Not all of us have the luxury to steal because we want to."

"Don't presume you know me, girl," Mercer hissed. His hand tightened in her hair, pulling hard. "And don't forget my title."

Nessa was still intimidated by Mercer, but the memories of her time in Honorhall were much scarier than he had ever done to her and they gave her courage. "How can I know anything about you? You never talk to any of us. You're always behind your desk or at Riftweald Manor. Maybe I would love to know you better…Master Frey."

Mercer paused, studying her. His expression was primarily suspicion, but there was curiosity as well. Maybe she had struck a nerve in response. It would serve him right.

"I think we're getting to know each other rather well," Mercer finally said. His hand slid back inside her open top to touch her breast again. His lips pressed against hers, gentler this time, before his tongue flicked over the full lips. "Unless you want to stop."

She knew she should say, "Yes, I want to stop. You were wrong to ever touch me", that she was saving herself for Brynjolf and he was the one she loved and wanted and never, ever Mercer. But she couldn't. There was something deadly about the older man. Something predatory and strong and gods she wanted that too. There was a lust in his eyes that she never saw in Brynjolf's when he looked at her and it made her feel as equally parts a grown woman as it tore her self-esteem apart too.

"No, I don't want to stop, Master Frey," she answered meekly. The words surprised her. Not only the agreement, but how easily addressing him as master was coming now.

"I didn't think you would," he smirked, making her realize he had known her answer all along. "To return to our previous topic, all thieves steal for a 'just' reason at first. Everyone feels justified in taking what isn't theirs. They have to in order to find the courage to go through with it. But only real thieves continue to take long after the 'righteousness' has passed. We steal because we have no other skills, we rob because we want a bed to sleep in and a meal in our stomachs, but there is also the allure of the thrill of the hunt, both as we chase and are in response chased, that is only sated by the satisfaction of making something precious and rare ours instead of someone else's."

"And what do you want, sir?" Nessa whispered, licking her lips. "What rare and precious thing has caught your eye?"

Mercer chuckled wickedly as he pressed his hand on her shoulder. "I want you," he said making her go blood red in the face all over again, "and I want you on your knees." Nessa knelt gratefully. It felt easier to think when she didn't have to try to keep her legs from buckling from under her. "Now, unlace my trousers."

Her hands were definitely working much better now. While it had felt like an eternity to open her blouse, Mercer's pants were much easier to undo. The slightest nod of approval from Mercer encouraged her to pull his cock free.

Nessa swallowed at the sight. She had seen the occasional male member. The Cistern wasn't the most private place and the accidental frontal view happened time to time. But they had all been flaccid and across the room. Mercer was right there and he was hard. His cock hung straight and by the Nine it was thick.

"Kiss it," Mercer commanded. Nessa hesitated before pressing her lips against the tip. She found that it was a bit sticky from some clear liquid. When she licked it off, she made a face at the taste. This caused Mercer to laugh. "You really know nothing."

"I..." Nessa didn't get to finish her thought before Mercer pushed forward so his cock went into her mouth. Any protest was lost as he filled her mouth. She thought he would stop when he reached the back of her mouth, but the Guildmaster had other ideas.

His hand held the back of her head so she couldn't move as his cock slid down her throat. She could feel herself stretch to accommodate his girth. Tears sprung in her eyes as she struggled, but that seemed to only excite Mercer further. She beat her tiny hands against his legs, but her objections were ignored until he had hilted against her.

"It will be easier for you if you relax," Mercer suggested. He waited a moment as Nessa forced herself to relax. It was difficult. She couldn't breathe and felt gagged. His taste could only be described as masculine despite Ness never having tasted a man before. And gods damn her for feeling so turned on by his little noises of pleasure as her mouth unwillingly constricted around his erection.

Finally, she submitted and found it a little easier to breathe, but only a little. Her knuckles were snow white from where she had tightened her hands into fists holding handfuls of Mercer's leather pants.

"Don't forget to breathe," Mercer warned her as he petted her hair, "and you'll be fine, my dear." Then he was thrusting into her mouth, hard and fast. She tried to follow his advice, but panic settled back in and she writhed under Mercer's grasp, but he wouldn't let her stand or pull away.

When he came, his hot seed made her cough and gag, but he wouldn't withdraw until she swallowed every drop. "You did well," he said softly, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb. His praise made her feel ridiculously proud.

"Thank you, Master Frey," Nessa whispered. Her throat hurt and her knees her. She must look so childish with tears in her eyes and the bit of snot on her nose, but she never felt as much as an adult in that moment. She had pleased a man and he had told her she had done a good job!

She looked up in wonder when Mercer placed his hands on hers as she started to close her top.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.

"I thought we were done, sir?" she said, cautiously. She had heard that men, especially older ones, couldn't get hard again after they had spilled their load for at least a day.

"Oh, my dear, we're just getting started," Mercer chuckled. He pointed to the table where Vex often sat when she ate dinner. "Take off your pants and get on the table."

The thought to disobey never crossed Nessa's mind as she quickly obeyed. When she settled onto the table's surface, she had the fleeting thought of how uncomfortable she was going to feel next time she saw Vex eat here, but then quickly pushed it away.

Mercer pulled up a chair and sat on it before grabbing Nessa's legs and pulling on them until she was propped on the edge. "Now I get to find out if you're a screamer," he said mysteriously before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against her folds.

"Ah!" Nessa moaned as the older thief's tongue flicked against her swollen nub. His fingers were sliding her along her mound, trailing along every inch of skin. She felt a moment of embarrassment at how wet Mercer's fingers must be from touching her down there. She was soaked through and hadn't noticed until she took off her pants and saw the damp patch in the crotch.

Then his fingers were in her and gods she almost came there. She had tried touching herself a few times, but it was hard to find enough privacy to really explore her body and the attempts had resulted in nothing of interest. But this, oh sweet Dibella, this was something completely different! Mercer stroked his fingers in her as if he had done it a thousand times before.

Heat was not just pooling into her loins, it was goddamn flooding. Her sex felt like it was hot much like sitting next to a hearth fire after being outside all day, but so much more pleasant. Her legs had gone completely limb draped over Mercer's legs, but her feet tingled with sensation sending trills of electricity back up her calves.

"Oh gods, Mercer," she moaned. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"Foolish child," Mercer teased. His fingers slid from her dripping pussy and into her ass. Nessa gasped as she clenched around the foreign feeling of something in that place. He wiggled, stretching her as he stroked. Mercer wasted no time thrusting his other hand's index finger into her cunt, filling her. "Sex is like everything else in life. You chase what feels good until you can't stand it anymore."

Nessa fell back against the table top, whimpering as Mercer filled her with his hands. Her hips lunged against Mercer's palms as he prodded her. She knew she was blathering more or less incoherently. Something about how fucking good Mercer felt and how she wanted his cock in her and how she would do anything if he would just let her come, but she'd be damned if she could remember the exact words tumbling out of her mouth.

It wasn't just that Mercer knew how to use both his fingers and mouth. It wasn't that this was Nessa's first time being touched by a man. It wasn't even the possibility of being caught that turned her on so much. It was the simple depravity of it. Of how utterly filthy that was. She had always been a good girl, despite Grelod's many lectures to the otherwise. Sweet, kind, generous. And now she was on a table with a man sticking his finger up her ass and it felt good.

Then that moment of perfect bliss hit her as her found her orgasm and she rode it hard. Her hands were gripping the edge of the table hard enough that she wondered if it would splinter in her fists. She was pretty certain her heels were hitting Mercer's back and she knew she was squeezing her thighs as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She spared a thought of hoping she wouldn't break the Guildmaster's neck as she came, because by Mara that would be too preposterous to explain.

"Oh, Guildmaster, you're the best," Nessa murmured. Maybe she'd just sleep on the table, because she didn't think her legs could work.

"I'd take that as more of a compliment if you had any comparison," Mercer remarked. The words were cutting, but his tone was pleased. As he stood, she could feel his hardness brush against her.

"Oh, you're…?" she trailed off, suddenly too shy to say specifically what he was.

"Hard again?" Mercer snorted. "Rare for a man my age, but the sounds of a virgin becoming undone from my talents will almost always rouse my cock."

"Am I?" Nessa asked. "Still a virgin, I mean."

"Depends on the definition, my dear," Mercer drawled. His hand had found her ass again, still wet fingers slipping in and out. "Some people think if you have any part of your privates pressed against another person it counts. Others think coming to orgasm is what matters. I, personally, am a traditionalist, at least a far as virginity is concerned."

Nessa stifled a cry as Mercer slid into her ass. There was some resistance and it was a tight fit, but she wasn't too tight after how much he had fingered her. Mercer's pace was leisurely as he held her hips while he fucked her.

"I could fuck you right now," Mercer commented as he loomed over her. Nessa's legs wrapped around him, somehow finding enough strength for that at least. "I could take your maidenhead and you'd thank me for it. But corrupting a virgin is so much more fun than simply fucking a young, naïve girl, so I think I'll keep you that way for now."

Mercer's hands pinned her wrists to the table as he picked up speed. Nessa gasped as his grip tightened, making the small bones grind. He was hurting her, but he was making her wet again. His words were affecting her as much as his actions.

"Oh, yes, my tainted, sweet little virgin," Mercer crowed. His breathing was ragged as he hilted in her. "I'll use every part of you again and again until you come crawling to me, begging for me to finally fuck you. Or maybe you'll finally grow enough of a backbone to tell Brynjolf how much you want him and let him have it. It won't matter because I'll know what you've done to get there and that's almost as satisfying in its own way."

Nessa mewled as Mercer throbbed in her. Gods help her; she wanted everything Mercer was promising and more. Or was he threatening her? She wasn't sure which. All she could do was murmur, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over until he came again.

Moments later, Mercer looked completely composed after tucking himself back into his pants and smoothing his hair back. "You better clean this up before Vekel gets back," he said casually. "He doesn't like it when people fuck on his tables. Says it's bad for business."

He started to walk away and paused. Looking over his shoulder, Mercer said, "And don't think I didn't notice you didn't address me properly as Guildmaster. I'll punish you later." Then he was gone as he exited through the Cistern door.

Her ass throbbed and felt horribly sticky, her sex was aching, and she couldn't move, but Nessa had never felt more sated. She bit on her thumb as she considered all of the scenarios Mercer had described to her. Maybe being bad once in a while would be good.

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I'm always leery to use other people's characters outside of a parody situation. Our characters are our babies and we can be very sensitive to how they are treated. I want to thank Zute for trusting me with her girl and letting me use her writing exercise excerpt - the part where Mercer first kisses Nessa. This was a lot of fun to write and I love some of the topics they discuss. Oh, and the smut too, of course!


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